


Content

by Songofpsalms297



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad healers, Childbirth, F/M, Gen, Happily! Friends to lovers, Happy Ending, Orana's a bad ass, Racism, Racism in Thedas, Some Mild Angst, labor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8942224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songofpsalms297/pseuds/Songofpsalms297
Summary: Varric and Cassandra have to deal with racism.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to write some fluff. My uncle passed unexpectedly a few days ago. With all the grief, and my inability to return to Lost to continue the story there, I needed to write something pretty for my OTP. 
> 
> Thank you all for the support and comments over the last few months! I hope you all enjoy!  
> I only own the words.
> 
> My apologies for my appalling lack of consistency with the tenses! Ugh.

          She looks at him, familiar snarl marring her beautiful features. The wash of cold fear flows through Varric, as her hand tightens painfully on his shoulder. “Seeker?” he asks, heart thrumming painfully in his chest, fearful of what is coming next. He has returned to that state of terrified uncertainty. Swallowing the lump in his throat, “Can you make it, or would you like me to carry you?” Glancing down his heart hitches when he sees Cassandra, his beautiful warrior princess, gripping her abdomen with her free hand. Her hand on his shoulder spasms quick, fear blooms in her eyes, dancing across her face in concert with the pain etched there.

          “I am, I can, I think I will make it. Be with me,” her eyes softening, “I will need your strength for this. My love.” Catching Orana’s eye, Varric glances in the direction he and Cassandra are heading. Orana gives a tremulous smile in acknowledgement of the unspoken order. She turns on her heel, speeding out of the house, down to the Hightown clinic Cassandra had favored for the last few months. Nodding, he wraps his arms around her, walking her down the hallway to their bedroom.

          She stops their progression over the threshold. Misunderstanding, wanting to lighten the tension, “I’d carry you over the threshold again, Cass, but I’m afraid I’ll drop you this time.” She chuckles through the agony washing through her. “I should hit you for calling me fat, dwarf. It is your fault I am in this state.” Laughter bursts through him, “I seem to recall a certain enthusiasm on your part.” The contraction passes, and she elbows him in the side. “You are quite skilled at arousing my enthusiasm as I recall, Varric.” Her dry humor returning, “Now help me to bed please, so I may deliver our miracle.”  
          “I am ever at your service, Princess Tethras.” Playful swat, and laughter, quickly silenced by another contraction. They count, well, he counts; she breathes through them. They make slow progression from the door to their bed. It seems they have to stop every few steps. She gasps, a quick sharp shock, then Varric looks down and sees blood-tinged fluid pooling between her feet. “Fuck. What do we do now, Cass?”

          “Hopefully, Orana will return soon with Healer Garen. We can take care of it later. Help me to the bed, Love. I am suddenly very tired.” Acting quickly, Varric scoops his very pregnant Cassandra into his arms, ignoring her gasp, and her tightening grip on his arm. He sighs in concert with her, when she rests her head on his shoulder. Carrying her as if she were a fragile spun-glass Andraste figurine, he laid her gently on their bed. Darting around the room, he gathered the cloths, and towels, and other things they had set out in preparation for this day. Once they were set near the bed, he climbed onto it. He positioned himself behind her, wrapping his arms around her, Cassandra sighed, and they counted through the pain together. He could feel her stomach tighten, feel her body bearing down, readying itself for the delivery of their miracle child.

          Half-dwarven children were incredibly rare in Thedas. Having lived in Kirkwall where humans and dwarves lived, worked, and worshipped in close proximity, Varric had seen several dwarven-human relationships. There was always a certain amount of derision directed at those couples, he and Cass had dealt with their share of it despite his position as Viscount. But children from these pairings were rare. Varric had never seen one in all his life, and travels. Healer Garen had spoken to he and Cass throughout her pregnancy, reminding them of all the things that could, and might go wrong. She had gotten so negative, and Cassandra so depressed because of Garen’s words, Cassandra had started to question whether or not they should have acted on their desire to bring a child, their child into the world.

         Varric had spoken to the healer after that. Varric had learned through all his dealings with the Merchant’s Guild, and with House Vasca, how to imply the threat with proof, without having to explicitly state it. Healer Garen’s visits had been quite a bit cheerier after that, and Varric’s love had deepened as he watched Cassandra’s excitement and joy grow as the prospect of their child arriving drew closer.

          Pain where Cass gripped his arm brought him back to the present. “Cass?” Varric growled, “what can I do to help?” Her breathing took on an almost mechanical cadence as the contraction intensified, then abated. “Just stay with me, no matter what Healer Garen says. I need you with me through this process, my love.” He kissed her sweaty neck and rumbled his assent. “There is no way I am leaving you. We started this together, and that is how it will end.”

          Their heads jerked up and they saw Orana precede Healer Garen into their room. She glanced at Varric and the very pregnant Cassandra, quickly smothering the flicker of disgust that rose up, she washed her hands and approached the bed. “Shall we see how far along you have progressed, Lady Pentaghast?”

~oOo~

          Orana stood shaking next to the crumpled form of Healer Garen. Statuette of Andraste in her hands. The crying of the newborn little Tethras brought Orana to herself. She gathered the little one, crooning an elven lullaby as she washed the child, and quickly bundled her up to return her to her waiting parents. Orana’s heart raced as she remembered following Healer Garen from the Tethras’ bedroom when the Healer had announced she needed to make certain the baby was fully healthy, and to not disturb the parents she would take the baby to a different room and examine her. Orana had glanced at Ser Tethras and his look of concern had alarmed her. She left him taking care of Lady Tethras, and followed Healer Garen discreetly.

          Having been raised in slavery in Tevinter, having learned the hard way that nobles who could afford slaves wanted things done quickly, and as silently as if what they wanted had been summoned by magic. Orana had become increasingly concerned when Healer Garen had stopped just past the nursery door, and placed the baby into her bag.

           Orana called out to the healer, who spun on her heel to face the elven servant. Fear evident on the healer’s face, Orana reached for the child, “I will take the baby from here, you’ve missed her nursery, I am certain you aren’t going to take her from Sers Tethras.” Healer Garen’s expression change from fear to fury in a blink. Orana cringed and prayed for protection for the little one from the bitter, and horrifying racist garbage Garen spewed at her. When Garen reached for the baby, harm evident on her face, calling the infant an “unnatural abomination that should have been destroyed as soon as the ‘Lady Pentaghast’ was aware of its existence!" Healer Garen began waving her arms the angrier she got. "Lady Pentaghast should have taken the herbs I gave her to purge the abomination from her body. While there was still time to do so!” Healer Garen’s words penetrating the fog of horror in Orana’s mind, Orana grabbed the closest thing nearby. Hitting the healer with all her might, and Orana scooped the squalling, terrified babe into her arms, and sped back down the hall to the Tethras’ room.

          Varric opened the door before Orana could touch the handle. He took in her terrified disheveled appearance, and his child in her arms, and stepped out of the room to allow Cassandra much needed rest. He took his daughter, awe in his smile, “What happened with Healer Garen, Orana?” she filled him in on the events, he nodded, gratitude evident on his features. “Thank you for protecting us, for looking out for our beautiful girl, Orana. I owe you one.” Smiling he returned to his bedroom and his sleeping wife.

~oOo~

          Cassandra woke supremely contented. Her beautiful daughter snuggled against her side, Varric sleeping with his back to them both, on the side facing the door. Cassandra’s heart overflowed with love, for him, and gratitude to the Maker for the gift of this beautiful family she’d once thought she’d never have. Joy bloomed in her heart as her infant daughter’s face began to screw up into a hungry face. Cassandra breathed a blessing as her daughter latched on to her breast, “Tigana Ilsa Tethras, you are the joy of your father and I. Thank you for blessing us with the gift of being your parents.” Varric shifted in his sleep, closer to his loves. He draped an arm over Cassandra’s hip, shielding Tiga as well, contented smile splitting his face as he slept.

          Smile dancing across her lips, Cassandra drifted off, her daughter nursing, and her beloved guarding them even in his sleep.

 


End file.
